callmeemily | (spencer) TRIGGER WARNING: PTSD flashbacks

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(spencer) TRIGGER WARNING: PTSD flashbacks

Finally - finally, Raleigh had finished reading Anne of Green Gables. She'd been working on it for what seemed like forever, even though it'd only been a week and a half or so. She wasn't the fastest reader, but she liked it. She liked both reading (usually based on Joel's suggestions), and the book itself. When Joel'd told her earlier that there were a set of them, she'd been thrilled - and Spencer had them in his library so it was even better.

Joel was still at work, but Raleigh knew where she'd gotten the first one. It should have been simple enough - get the book, put the old one back. Nothing was ever simple, it seemed like, since there was a much bigger problem this time around; when she'd swapped the books and turned 'round, she stepped wrong. Her leg decided - after a full day's work, and Raleigh hadn't been all that careful - that it'd had it, and she stumbled into one of the side tables, knocking a stack of books and a glass tumbler to the floor with a crash.

The glass broke on the wood floor, and Raleigh found herself standing in the middle broken glass with bare feet, her leg still spasming whenever she tried to put weight on her foot. "Shit," she said thickly, and she leaned heavily on the table. She bent, trying to pick up the biggest pieces of glass so she could get to a chair or sit on the floor or something, and she hissed as the second piece sliced her hand - not badly, it wasn't going to need stitches, but she was bleeding.

All she could think was that she prayed that Spencer hadn't heard - she was pretty sure the tumbler was his mother's, and she'd have to find a way to tell him - but this? This wasn't the way, with it broken all over the floor.

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His left hand hurts. It's all in his head, he tries to tell himself, just phantom pains because his fingers have healed. The cuts on his face have healed, the black eye and bruises on his neck have faded, it's been over a month; but he supposes this wouldn't be happening in the first place if simply telling himself that is all it would take. He shrinks into himself, praying--praying--that she doesn't try to touch him because his hand travels to his throat and he lets out a ragged breath as the image of Mark above him, slowly choking the life out of him--don't worry, I'll make it last--flashes through his mind.

It doesn't feel like it's been a month, it barely feels like any time has passed at all, and he just wants to feel numb. It's been so easy to forget because so much has happened since the night of the lighthouse, he's gained a friend and roommate in Raleigh and the love of his life in Joel, and he tries to focus on that until he makes the mistake of looking at her. The pain is written all over the face, and he realizes then how her leg is positioned, the strain in her body language and the blood pooling in her hand and staining her shirt and the floor by her foot.

Nobody is safe in this room, nobody, and the thought of having Joel in here makes him retch. It's dry, there's nothing left in his stomach to let out, but he feels the burn in his throat and it only sends another sensation of having those hands squeezing, of actually dying; and he knows that Eli's right, knows that nobody would have come for him if Joel hadn't tracked them to the lighthouse, and it makes him think of Raleigh and the texts and he looks at her with wide, wet eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says again, though she can't know what it's for because he's still too much of a coward to tell her, but he can't stop saying it. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you-- you're bleeding, you need to-- if you don't take care of your hand, your hand's important, it's really important." He makes a fist with his own before flexing his fingers out, testing them just to make sure they still work.

Her words hit him again, that Joel's coming, and it makes him push off from the floor even though he's shaky on his feet. His gaze shifts back to the broken glass on the floor, and he doesn't even know what to do anymore. His face is flushed, and he's sweating, he's dizzy and thirsty and has no idea what to do. "I need to clean it up," he says suddenly, taking a step forward. "I need to clean it, and I need to fix your hand, I think there's glass in it. There was glass in my head, we need to get it out, Raleigh, it's not good to have glass there because it could get infected, and I have to clean this up because Joel can't come in here. He could get hurt, like you and me, and I can't let that happen again."

"No, no, no-" She tries to stop him as he apologises. "Everything's fine, I broke the glass by accident, everything's okay, Spencer, I promise-" Her voice catches, because it kills her to see him like this, this mindless panic that she's felt, that she's felt so much and she has to do something but she can't because she doesn't know what to do.

"It's not that deep, I'm okay, I promise, okay?" She's trying desperately to reassure him, and he gets up and she can't, she can't get up, she knows it, but she's got to try. Her hand digs into the chair near them, pushing herself half up with her good hand. "Spencer- Spencer, it's okay. There's no glass in my hand, it'll be okay, and- Oh, sweetheart-"

That's when he says that Joel could get hurt, and her face crumples. She's hurting, and she's scared, she's terrified she's going to hurt him more, she hates herself for the accident-- but she's still there, she's there and she's got to do something. Her accent's thick and it's because of the stress, the stress and fear that's got her all Tennessee, and she prays that Joel comes faster. Sooner.

"He's not going to get hurt, I promise you. I just broke the glass, Spencer, I knocked it down because I was clumsy, I'm sorry. He won't get hurt, he'll help, but just- the floor's got glass, you have to be careful-" She doesn't want him touching it, not now, not with how he is. "Can you come help me?" It's all she can think of. "My leg's messed up - I overdid it, and I just- If you could help me, then I'd be okay." Anything to get him away from the glass, anything to get him calm, or thinking about anything but the blood on the floor. "Please?"

It's like he has tunnel vision, all he can focus on is the glass on his floor and he's already on his knees so he can reach for one of the broken shards when her words stop him. A plea for help, like the ones he'd whispered aloud every time Mark had left the room, given him a brief reprieve from the pain he hadn't even been able to make sense of at the time. He'd been beaten up a few times in high school, though once Dane had risen in status thanks to his position on the football team, that had stopped; he'd been roughed up here and there, verbally abused more than anything, after the deaths of his family; but nothing like what he'd experienced with Mark. Nobody had ever been that cruel to him or taken so much delight in seeing him in pain.

He remembers trying so desperately not to cry, not to scream, because he hadn't wanted to give Mark the satisfaction. He finds it laughable that he can't hold back the tears now, like he's making up for that night in spades, and his hand is still outstretched toward the glass but he's turned his head to look over his shoulder at Raleigh. She needs help, she's asking him for it, and he feels the guilt rising inside of him to the point that it's almost overwhelming.

He thinks of the night he'd found her panicking from her nightmare, of how she'd asked him to say without really asking but she's really asking now, so how can he possibly deny her? She's his friend. Family, he corrects himself in a brief moment of clarity, and his brother had always reminded him that family comes first even though he'd only ever said to get something he wanted; but Dane had been right, and Spencer can't let his brother or Raleigh down, so he nods slowly as he tries to take deep breaths and make his way back to her.

He's still crying, he doesn't know how to turn it off, and he wishes he could be stronger but it's difficult to reconcile what's happening now with what had happened then, even as he holds his right hand out to help Raleigh up and settle her in the chair she'd been hanging onto. His eyes keep flickering to the mess a few feet away, his mind torturing him with flashes of the way Mark had broken his fingers--almost like he'd wanted it to be intimate and Spencer thinks he might be sick again--and Joel getting knocked to the ground, his wrist bent at such an unnatural angle.

He lets out another ragged sob because he can't get that out of his mind now, Joel bleeding on the ground because of him, because Spencer hadn't been able to defend himself and all he'd wanted that night was to go on a date. He has to carry the burden of guilt for being unable to help Raleigh now, and he can't ever really explain to her how important it is to him that she's okay because he doesn't know how to talk to anyone but Joel that way, and it's eating at him inside right now. The comforting words that he'd tried to find the night he'd stayed in bed with her are non-existent, all he can do is shakily reach for her hand and turn it over to look at the cut.

"H-how can I help you, I-- Your leg, your hand, and oh god, your foot, I don't-- I can't think, I can't--" His shoulders shake as he gently cups her hand in both of his and lowers his head to her lap. He can't hold it back anymore, this thing that's been growing inside him since what had happened, and he'd denied its existence but it's reared its ugly head with a vengeance. He needs to get a hold of himself, he knows this, he needs to help Raleigh and then he needs to get back to the glass, needs to make sure nobody else gets hurt in this room, in this house because he can't do it again. He can't walk downstairs and find another body, not if it's going to be Raleigh or Joel, he doesn't even think he could live through the pain of that again.

"Please," he cries, gripping the hem of Raleigh's shirt in his fist, and he doesn't even know what he's pleading for but it's all he can think to say. "I'll do anything, I swear, just please make it stop."

She doesn't think she will ever forgive herself for breaking that glass.

She's pleading with him to help her, not because she needs it (even though she does), but because it's all she can think of, and it's all she's got. It's all she's got, to say she needs his help, and she's praying for Joel as she feels her own panic twisting up inside of her but she won't let it, she won't let the blood and the pain take her back there because she's got to be here for him.

"Just stay, just stay, that's all I need, we talked about it, to not be alone, remember? I just- I just need you here, because- because I can't-" She's shaking, she's shaking as he leans his head in her lap and her good hand finds his hair, it strokes his hair and she closes her eyes tightly as she prays - prays - for Joel.

"I know. I know, sweetheart, it'll stop. Everything's find, I promise, everything's okay. Everything's okay. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I won't- I won't... I'm sorry." She's terrified, she's terrified and she hears the door open distantly but she keeps talking, her voice cracking as she prays that it's Joel. "I'm okay, you're okay, I promise-"

He gets the text and he does his best not to panic, but by the time he's run upstairs and asked Charlotte to close up the store for him, Raleigh still hasn't answered and he doesn't know what that means except that something bad has happened, something she considers an emergency, and for some reason she can't tell him what. That causes his throat to tighten and his heart to beat faster as he throws his belongings into his bag. It only takes him a few minutes to collect his things and once Charlotte is down in the store, he heads for the door, telling himself not to run, he doesn't need to run, but he breaks into a brisk jog within thirty seconds and by the time he reaches the end of the block, he's running.

By the time he reaches Spencer's house -- their house, he has to remind himself -- he's breathing hard and his hands are shaking as he frantically pats down his pockets in search of his keys. They're in his hand a second later and he can't even remember which pocket they came out of, only that he has them now, and he unlocks the door, dropping his back, dropping his keys and closing the door with his foot. The protective spell is still in place, the one he put on for Spencer, the one that prevents people from coming inside unless they're invited, so he doesn't bother to lock the door. He just stands in the entrance for a moment, listening and over the rapid beating of his own heart he can hear them.

Spencer is in the library and he's crying.

He crosses the distance to the library in what he knows is a split second, but feels like much longer, like he's moving through water or having one of those dreams where no matter how hard he tries to run, he doesn't get any closer to his destination. But then he's there and he takes in the books on the floor, the broken glass, Raleigh and Spencer all with a sort of detached awareness before he crosses the room and drops down beside them, terrified and bewildered.

"What happened?" he asks, glancing from Raleigh's face to Spencer's ducked head. "Spencer, please, what happened?" All he wants to do is make this better, whatever it is, but he feel suddenly helpless. He can put protective spells on the house and he showed up at the lighthouse and he can hold Spencer when he wakes up from nightmares, but he can't just makes everything right no matter how badly he wants to.

He hears Joel's voice, it resonates in the room and it's louder than glass shattering or his fingers snapping, but it means Joel is here and there's still shards on the floor. He lifts his head out of Raleigh's lap so quickly he's sure he's given himself whiplash and looks to his worried boyfriend with wide eyes, the sheer panic and dread evident in them. "You can't be here," he says, glancing at Raleigh as if for affirmation before turning back to Joel. "It-- It's not safe, you can't be here, it's broken. It's all broken, and Raleigh's hurt already, I can't-- I can't do this, I can't."

He pulls away from Raleigh, still on his knees as he lets his hands drop to his sides, and what he really wants is to pull Joel close to him and never let go; he wants to bury his face against Joel's shoulder and know that his boyfriend will let him cry as long as he needs to or kiss Joel until he forgets all of this. But he's helpless, as vulnerable as he'd been the night Mark had taken him, and his hands tremble as he tries to decide what he should do. He swallows hard, trying to steady his voice as he speaks again, though he's finding it more difficult to look either of them in the eye this time.

"I-- I need to clean it up," he says, and he's proud of the way he's managed to sound calm even if it's nothing like the way he feels inside. His mind won't stop racing and he wavers as he gets to his feet, reaching out to steady himself on the back of Raleigh's chair as he brings his other hand up to rub at his temple. The headache's back--or maybe it hadn't ever left--and so is the nausea, but he think that maybe if he cleans up the glass and the blood, this could could go away. He would really like for it to go away.

"Raleigh's hurt," he says again, nodding as he meets Joel's eyes. "S-so if you can help her, I can clean up the glass, and I can fix this. I can fix it, I promise, nobody has to get hurt again because I'm going to fix it."

"I'm okay," she assures them both, her eyes find Joel's and it's clear she's scared. "I accidently- it's my fault, I broke the glass, I bumped the table. I'm sorry, I-" Her eyes flick to Spencer, and the guilt is all over her face, her posture. "I tried to clean it up, but I cut myself - it's fine, I just need a butterfly bandage and some tape - but..."

But.

"I didn't- I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I think- I think that I can take care of my hand and the glass, but that we should leave for now:" She nods as she says it, because Spencer's looking at Joel, not at her, and she's trying to tell Joel without words that they've got to get him out of here. "Being in here isn't going to make anything better."

I'm so sorry. It's all she can think, and she's trying - she's tried since the moment she broke it, to put it back together. To put Spencer back together.

They can't spend their lives running from what happened in this room. Not when it used to be the one place Spencer felt safe, not when it's the place he loves, the one part of this home he claimed for his own after his family died. It makes Joel want to go back to that night and snap Mark Fuller's neck just so they can all be sure he's never going to come back, but he can't, and he knows he can't and it's not just that he can't turn back time, it's that he'd be a different man if he had killed Mark. He might not be the man Spencer loves and he can't let go of that.

But they can't just keep running.

"Being out there isn't going to make anything better either," he says, his voice soft. He has no idea what to do, but he doesn't think just leaving the room is going to help. Raleigh's hand is bleeding and he's concerned about her leg and he wants to get something for her to stop the blood, but he can't leave. He can't walk out of this room without Spencer and he can't force him to leave either. He doesn't think he should force him to leave. He'd cleaned up last time, he'd shown up and swept up the glass and the drops of blood on the floor, then he'd run away, but there's no way in hell he's doing that this time. "It's okay," he tells Raleigh. "It's not your fault." It's an accident, they happen, and if it wasn't her breaking the glass today, it would be him knocking it over next week.

"Spencer," he says gently as he gets to his feet and reaches for him, laying surprisingly steady hands on his shoulders. He knows what's happened now, he knows it's the broken glass, the library, it's Mark come back to haunt them, and he remembers walking into that lighthouse and seeing Spencer beaten and broken. "Hey, I found you, remember?" he murmurs, smoothing his hands gently over his shoulders, touching him with great care. "No one is here but us. No one can come in this house but us."

He hears them talking but he doesn't, he's too fixated on inching closer to the glass to pay closer attention. There's a small part of his mind that's functioning properly again, and he thinks--knows--it has to do with Joel's mere presence, the fact that the man he loves is here to save him yet again. It's not until he feels the weight of Joel's hands on his shoulders, though, that Spencer realizes he's not crying anymore. His heart is still racing in his chest, he still feels like he could be sick, and the pounding in his head hadn't stopped; but he's stopped crying and as he slowly breaks his gaze from the glass and lets his eyes search Joel's, he feels a familiar sense of comfort wash over him.

Of course I found you. We had a date.

He feels himself start to wilt under Joel's touch and stumbles toward the other man, practically knocking him over as Spencer clings to Joel's shirt, clings to anything to make sure his boyfriend's really here and okay and that the worst is over, has been over for weeks now. "You found me," he echoes, and he takes a deep, shaky breath as he repeats it to himself again and again just like he'd did that night but this time, they're not in the lighthouse. They're at home, their home, the one they share with Raleigh. He feels so foolish, he wants to turn and run so he can hide his face from them both but that would mean being away from the safety of Joel's arms and he can't afford to lose that right now; he can't afford to ever lose that.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, and he makes eye contact with Raleigh when he says it, the guilt evident in his tone and in his eyes. Still clinging to Joel's shirt with one hand, he pulls back just a little to examine his boyfriend's face, reaching up with his other to smooth the worry lines from Joel's forehead and curving down to brush his fingertips against Joel's cheek. "I'm sorry. I love you so much, I'm so sorry."

It's getting easier to breathe--not by much quite yet, but it's easier--and he rests shifts so that his body is turned slightly toward Raleigh as he wraps an arm around Joel's waist, still needing that contact to anchor him. "It wasn't your fault," he says, echoing what he's finally processed as Joel's words from earlier because he would never want Raleigh to believe that she's the cause for his pain. It had been Mark, he tells himself, fighting the needling thought that if only he'd been smarter, faster, stronger, he could have gotten himself out of that whole mess without getting Joel hurt. It had been Mark. "I'm sorry for all of this."

She broke the glass. She started this. If Joel had been home when this happened, if he'd broken the glass, if he hadn't cut himself--

It's horrible, it's horrible, all of it, and she doesn't know how to fix it. She doesn't know what to do. "I'm okay," she reassures them, and she sounds confident in it. "I just need some tape, I've done worse in the kitchen. I swear." Spencer saying he's sorry, it's making it worse, it's making it worse for her but she can't say anything, all she can think is when she was in that room, when she'd kept saying she was sorry for some invisible thing that was never her fault to begin with--

Sometimes, she wonders why they're okay with having her here, because of all of this. Because she's broken the way he's broken, and neither of them should have to deal with that.

So she strong-arms it, she strong-arms it the way she does whenever she's around people and her knuckles of her good hand are white on the chair arm but the rest of her looks pretty normal, if in pain. Her leg-- she'll be able to walk again soon, when the muscle in her calf stops seizing up, and she hates that, too. She hates all of it.

"You don't have to be sorry," she says quietly. "You didn't do anything, Spencer. None of this - or that, none of it was your fault, I promise."

Her eyes flick to Joel, and they're furrowed with concern, not knowing what is the right thing, anymore. Her hand's wrapped in her shirt both to put pressure on it and so neither of them can see it, so Spencer- so he can stop fixating and be okay again and she's so sorry she broke the damned glass. She's guilty, and she doesn't know what else to do.

When Spencer all but sags against him, Joel wraps both his arms around him to keep him upright, lifting one hand to palm the back of his head, his fingers stroking against his hair. It's scary sometimes, just how much he loves this man, the things he knows he'd do for him, but what's scarier still is thinking about how much Spencer is still hurting. Joel can try to help him -- and Raleigh, too -- with potions and with anise seed pillows and teas, he can put protective charms on anything and everything they need. He can warn them if and when he has premonitions, but he can't undo the damage that has already been done and he's angry with himself for not having been able to see it. When Mark had come, he'd had a premonition, a vague visual he hadn't been able to understand. When Raleigh had been taken there hadn't been anything, no warning whatsoever, and he hates this power. If he can't use it, if it doesn't come at all sometimes or is too vague to understand, then he doesn't know why he has to have it at all.

"I love you. You don't have to be sorry," he whispers, though Raleigh has already said as much, he knows it can't hurt to hear it again. What has happened to Spencer won't just go away no matter what they say, but he doesn't think either of them will stop saying it. He wants to talk to Raleigh again, wants to get her alone a little later, make sure she really knows this isn't her fault, but he also has a feeling she'll blame herself anyway. It's what he would do.

He doesn't want to let Spencer go and keeps his arm tight around his shoulders, even though the feeling in the room is losing some of the tension it had held when he'd walked in. There's still a part of him that's waiting for something else it happen, but he only holds onto Spencer, running a soothing hand over his hair and the neck and then across his shoulders as he looks between the two of them. He can tell Raleigh is in pain, he can see it in the way she's holding onto the chair, he doesn't need to look at her aura to see that.

There's still glass on the floor, but he'll clean it up later, and then he'll go upstairs with Spencer. He's not going to leave again. He doesn't want either of them to worry about it now, he can clean up, he can take care of it.

"Are you okay to walk?" he asks Raleigh, because he wants to help her, but he also doesn't want to let go of Spencer. "We should go into the kitchen and get your hand taken care of."

He nods, though his gaze drifts back to the glass. It's not his fault, okay, that's fine for now. "He caught me by surprise, that's all," he says softly, and Joel still has his arms around him but Spencer doesn't want him to let go because if Joel lets go, that might mean he'll try to clean up the glass, but Spencer doesn't want him to do that. Raleigh had touched the glass and now she's bleeding, no matter how okay she says she is because Spencer can say he's okay, he can tell himself that over and over, but the truth is that he's not. He's not okay, and he feels that thing in his chest that he can't quite describe, he just knows that he needs to get it out.

"He caught me by surprise, and I should clean up my own messes," he continues, and he knows he's in trouble here. He knows he's drifting back where he doesn't want to be, and he reminds himself that Joel's right here but he can't take his eyes off the glass. He's fixated on the idea of cleaning it up on his own the way he couldn't have the first time around because... Because... "They were right, they were both right, nobody else would have--" He snaps his mouth shut, pressing his lips in a thin line as his mind clears again, and he's so tired of this mental whiplash, he's just tired.

He makes a fist and brings up to rub at his eyes, frowning at his brow furrows, then opens his palm and drags it down his face. "My head hurts." It comes out as nearly a whisper, merely a fact, he doesn't expect anyone to do anything about it. He needs to clean up his own messes, solve his own problems. It's not fair to Joel, not just expecting him but needing him to be there every time something gets to be a little harder than Spencer would like it to be. It's bad enough that sleeping alone is such a trial but not even being able to handle something as common as a broken glass...

He knows, logically, that he couldn't have known it would happen or that it would have triggered him this way; but logic doesn't have much place here, not when he's staring right at the place he'd been hit and a burst of pain flashes in his temple, enough to make him squeeze his eyes shut and let out a groan. "I-- I've got the painkillers, I was going to get them earlier." He places a hand against Joel's chest, pushing back from him a little even though it kills him to do it and takes a step back without breaking away completely. "Raleigh's leg. She says she's okay but she's not, she needs help. You need help, Raleigh, let him help you, okay?"

Edited 2014-07-22 19:45 (UTC)

It's when he says it the second time that Raleigh's heart drops into her stomach, and her eyes well with tears, her hand shaking as she takes a deep breath. He caught me by surprise.

She's messed up, she's messed him up so bad, and she doesn't know what to do. She doesn't- He's staring at the glass, and she keeps thinking about the room, now, the room she'd been locked in and the blood on the floor and she's not going to do this. She's not. "It's my mess," she says softly, her voice a whisper. "I'll get it, I broke it, don't worry. Don't worry," she says it again. "I'm okay, I just- I need a minute, but I'm okay, I got it. You- I just need a few minutes, but you should go get your medication."

It's the right answer, and she's got to get them out of here, she's got to get away, to be by herself. "Okay? I'm alright." She's not, she's so not alright, but she can get through this, she can bandage herself up and get the glass out of her foot, when she can finally stand again. She just wishes so much that this had never happened. She wants to just beg Joel to take care of him, to get him out of here, away from the glass, but... it's not up to her.

Later, when he has some time to think, he'll feel guilty about it, but at the moment he's just grateful that Raleigh has told him she'll be okay. He can't leave Spencer, he just can't, and he knows it's to the detriment of other people sometimes, but the idea of leaving him alone in the library right now so he can help her just sort of makes his chest seize uncomfortably. And it's not that he doesn't want to help her, he does, of course he does, but he can't be everywhere at once. Joel has never so badly wanted to help anyone as he does the two people in the room with him right now; the only thing that's even remotely comparable to how he wants to help Raleigh is the way he tends to care for Charlotte, but she's family. This is different and it's hard, because he wants to do it all and he knows he can't.

And over the past several weeks, too, having spent so much time with her, he thinks he's begun to learn the nuances of her behaviour and there's something about the way she's speaking that makes him think she might want to be alone. At least for a few minutes. The look he flashes her is apologetic and grateful all at once and he hopes she understands.

"Spencer, come with me," he says softly. It hurts a little that Spencer pushes against his chest and he doesn't want it to, that's not fair, but it does all the same. He can't force him -- he won't force him -- but as much as he wants Spencer to be able to spend time in his library again, he thinks maybe Raleigh was right in the first place. Maybe they just need to get out of here, be alone for a little while, be away from the broken glass and the room where it all happened. "Come on. We'll get your painkillers." I'm not leaving now. He'd said it before and he knows no matter how hard he thinks it, Spencer won't be able to feel it like his sister would be able to, but he thinks it anyway.

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(spencer) TRIGGER WARNING: PTSD flashbacks

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